


This Is War

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Prank Wars, Triple Agent Rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-15 20:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18506497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers trope for SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles).





	1. Enemies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts).



> I own nothing!

Four months of working in Hawaii. It was the happiest news of Darcy Lewis’s life. The second happiest was that Jane Foster’s new lab at the observatory had a minor construction delay. It meant they couldn’t start Jane’s newest project for a week. As a perk and an apology to the now-famous Jane, the director was putting them up at a resort. An actual resort! They’d taken an overnight flight. Darcy woke up after her post-flight nap and gazed out the window. The sand was white and the ocean was endlessly blue. It was ten am and sunny and she had absolutely nowhere to be for a week. Jane was going to hate it. She was going to put on a bathing suit and just live in one of the lounge chairs by the shoreline. Darcy wrote a note for the still-sleeping Jane in the other twin bed, put on her pineapple-print bathing suit and went downstairs with her sunscreen and phone.

Thirty minutes, one secured umbrella, and copious quantities of SPF 40 later, she’d figured out that they would actually bring you a margarita and snacks right on the beach and decided she could die happy. As soon as she caught up on all her podcasts. Darcy was puzzling over Elizabeth Holmes’s weird put-on voice when a shadow fell over her lounge chair and someone cleared their throat. “Miss Lewis,” a man said. “You need to get up and come with me. Immediately.”

“And you are?” she said. The man was wearing a dark, almost bizarrely plain suit. In Hawaii. On the beach.

“Federal law enforcement,” he said. “Please sit up.” He leaned forward. His expression was masked behind aviators. “I’m with SHIELD,” he said, flashing a badge. “There’s been a threat against you and Dr. Foster. We have to go now. Now.” The voice had gone stern. Darcy had frozen. SHIELD, she knew, had fallen into the Potomac and was currently lobbying to be refunded by Congress. There was no SHIELD. Not that she knew about.

“Okay,” she said calmly. “Lemme get my towel. Will you hold my drink?”

“Hold your drink?” he said.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, smiling brightly. Her taser was underneath the towel, inside her bag. 

She rolled over on her side and leaned forward, hoping against hope for heterosexual possible HYDRA thug, so he’d be distracted by the ta-tas. There was no way to tell where he was looking for certain. She flicked her hair a little and then got her hand on the taser. She brought it out carefully. She and Jane had practiced this move as a precaution. Thor had been the volunteer tasee. Only it didn’t go as practiced. Her margarita clattered to the sand when the prongs hit him, but he didn’t drop.

“Miss Lewis,” he said coldly, prying away the prongs as if he felt nothing. “I don’t work like that. Get your ass out of that goddamn chair.” That was when she tried to run. She made it past two lounge chairs whose residents looked at her in alarm. “Unpaid parking tickets at the beach,” he said to them, shaking his head, as she took a swing at him, screeching. He handcuffed her as she yelled about jackbooted thugs, unlawful arrest, and tried to kick him. There was a minor wrestling bout at the shoreline. They both got sandy. “Goddammit,” he cursed, as his shoes filled with ocean water. That was when he practically yanked her off her feet and she thought they’d end up adding public indecency to the list of charges. Left boob looked totally prepared to make its own run for the border.

“SHIELD is not federally authorized to arrest people, you dickhead!” she yelled, as he half-dragged her to the hotel elevator. That was a surprise. She’d assumed she would end up in a car trunk.

“They cover that in your astrology class?” he said wryly, hitting the button.

“I studied political science, you dipshit. And it’s astronomy. Astrology is Miss Cleo. What, were you homeschooled by mouth-breathers?” she said. “And why are we going upstairs?”

“To help Foster pack, you pain in my ass,” he said. The elevator doors opened and she tried to bolt again. He caught her.

“Fuck you, fuckhead,” she said. “I know all about SHIELD. You’re not SHIELD, you’re probably a HYDRA dimwit with a Hitler boner.”

“Will you stop?” he said heatedly. “I know Phil, okay? Phil, Skye, all your friends on the Bus. He got a threat report on Foster, he sent me and another ex-agent to protect you. Rollins is with Foster.”

“Jack?” Darcy said. They’d met the taciturn agent in New Mexico. Darcy thought he was cute. Also, he did a helluva a Crocodile Dundee impression on his third beer.

“Yes,” he said glumly. “Foster didn’t try to wound him.”

“Of course not, we love Jack,” Darcy said, as they got off the elevator. “We met him in New Mexico.”

“You met me in New Mexico,” he grumbled.

“Try to be less forgettable. Or was it mediocre?” Darcy said, before she realized someone was opening the room door. “Hey!” Darcy yelled joyfully, when Jack smiled at her. Then he saw the cuffs and frowned.

“You found your way here, huh, love?” he said. “Why is she wearing cuffs, mate?”

“Your Paul Hogan is still soooo good,” Darcy told him. He grinned wickedly and winked at her.

“The little bitch tried to bite me,” the other guy said, unlocking the cuffs.

“Brock,” Jack scolded.

“That’s right, language, asshole,” Darcy sassed. Jane came to the door and looked at the three of them.

“You cuffed my assistant? I want your full name and badge number. I’m filing a complaint with Phil. Immediately,” Jane said, glaring daggers at the agent.

“Fine,” he said. “Brock Rumlow. R-U-M-L-O-W. Badge number five-seven-two-three-one-one.” Darcy scoffed.

“Like that’s not a fake name,” she said. “Nobody is named Brock.”

“Has Jack told you that he’s really Australian yet?” Jane said to Darcy.

“Why are your shoes wet, mate?” Jack asked Brock.

“No way! Your Paul Hogan is your real accent? Cool,” Darcy said, as the Rumlow guy looked down at his wet, sand-covered shoes and sighed.

 

***

They were on a repainted quinjet when Jane asked where they were headed. “Washington?” Darcy said hopefully.

“New Jersey,” Agent Rumlow said. “But you’ll have a full lab available to you.”

“Great,” Jane said, brightening.

“I hate you. I wish Phil had sent Cap instead. Steve would never kidnap someone from their vacation and drop them in New Jersey,” Darcy said, getting up.

“Where are you going? You’re supposed to wear a damn seat belt,” he said. He followed her to the back of the quinjet, where she was looking for the chocolate hidden in her bags. She hadn’t gotten any kona coffee, Darcy realized bitterly. She had missed the entire window for expensive regional coffees. It made her want to actually weep. “Come back here,” Agent Jerkface said.

“No,” Darcy said, whirling on him. “Let me tell you what I’m supposed to be doing! I’m supposed to be back on that beach, drinking a peach daiquiri and enjoying my first ever tropical vacation. My first vacation of any type in five years and you–you ruined it!” Darcy said, poking him in the chest.

“That is assault on a federal officer. I could have you arrested as soon as we land,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Darcy said, poking him again. “Well, I am an Honorary Princess of the Nine Realms. I’ve got diplomatic immunity, asshole. Just try!” Darcy dared him.

“Oh, I’m gonna,” he said. He argued with Phil for fifteen minutes after they deplaned at a SHIELD base. The Honorary Princess thing was true, though, and he finally gave up and stomped off, calling her a “fucking pain in my ass.” She and Jane had asked Thor for immunity via a really big cardboard sign back in 2012 (because the van kept getting stopped in New Mexico for tail light violations and they didn’t have the cash to scour the internet for vintage Econoline parts). Heimdall had floated them down papers by raven. It was super handy.

“Ha ha,” Darcy yelled after him. “Take that, you illiterate, grabby hands Neanderthal!” He glared at her.

“I’m usually the one who yells things like that,” Jane said, looking proud.

“That schmuckdoodle left a squeezy bruise on, like, almost my butt cheek. I saw it in the bathroom,” Darcy said.

“Oh, that is going in the report!” Jane yelled, flipping him the bird.

Darcy made a point to snub the Rumlow guy whenever she came over to flirt with Jack over the next seventy-two hours. She heard through the grapevine at the lab that he’d been scolded by Phil, too. “I have found the thing that most brings me joy,” Darcy announced to Jane when she brought snacks into the lab one afternoon. She had passed the gym on the way back and pointedly ignored a shirtless Rumlow to coo over Jack’s “amazing definition” and “really, truly beautiful biceps.” He’d scoffed audibly, then gone off muttering obscenities.

“What?” Jane said. “Being my assistant?”

“No, although I do love that, the true act that sparks joy is trolling Asshat Rumlow,” Darcy said. “I want to really make Mr. Excessive Force miserable. Just utterly, completely miserable.”

“How?” Jane said.

“Snake Away in his locker?” Darcy said. “Or is that a crime?” Snake Away smelled like rotten eggs. Literally. That was an ingredient.

“Sounds like a crime,” Jane said.

“What if I do something more innocuous?” Darcy wondered out loud.

“Darcy,” Maria Hill said, some three days later, “why did you sprinkle rose and cinnamon essential oils all over Rumlow’s locker?” The three of them were standing in her office.

“That was Agent Rumlow’s locker?” Darcy said innocently.

“Commander,” he interjected.

“Excuse me?” Darcy said.

“My rank is Commander. I’m a STRIKE Commander, not a regular agent,” he said.

“Oh, really?” Darcy said.

“Returning to the point at hand, why does Commander Rumlow’s locker smell like that?” Hill asked.

“Jane and I are doing an experiment. A completely random experiment,” Darcy lied. “On the atmospheric effects of more positive moods through aromatherapy. We’ve done essential oil tests all over the facility. Totally randomized.” That part was true. She’d sprinkled her cinnamon, rose, & vanilla blend all over the place.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me?” Rumlow said. “My socks smell like a grandma!”

“Isn’t that an improvement? I mean, honestly, it was a little ripe in there,” Darcy said. “I’d have thought a STRIKE Commander, well, you know….” Darcy wrinkled her nose and shook her head. He glared at her.

“Are you going to let her get away with this?” he asked Hill.

“What she did isn’t technically a crime,” Hill said mildly.

“It’s vandalism,” Rumlow said bitterly, then stormed off.

“Buh bye, Agent Rumlow!” Darcy trilled. He gave her a death stare as he passed the glass walls.

Maria Hill looked at her. “Please stop,” she said. “I already wrangle Fury, Cap, Romanoff, and whatever portal Jane has opened, I cannot take feuds on top of Cap’s stubbornness, Fury’s crazy plans, portals, and Romanoff stealing all the files on particular assassins to add to her air of mystery.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, sighing. Then she got curious. “Which assassins?”

“Some guy she’s going after called Vlad the Impaler,” Maria said. “Apparently, they met in Vienna once and they have a history,” she said, doing air quotes around the last word.

“Huh,” Darcy said. “Isn’t Vlad the Impaler a little on the nose?”

“I was sort of hoping for Vigo the Carpathian, to be honest,” Maria said, ushering Darcy out.

 

***

Darcy was going to stop. She really was. But then that fucker stole Jane’s favorite Pop Tarts from the lab. Her limited edition Pop Tarts. And her chocolate Crunch Berries cereal. She and Jane watched the theft on her secret Fury-Made-Me-Do-It Nannycam, aka Teddy Ruxbin. “He stole my Unicorns and the Strawberry Milkshakes!” Jane said. “That bastard waited until I went to pee.”

“Please don’t turn this into a thing where you pee into a drink bottle because you don’t want to leave the lab, okay? I’m going to fix this,” Darcy vowed.

“What are you going to do?” Jane said.

“The adult thing: I’m going to steal a golf cart,” Darcy said, checking his schedule. STRIKE Alpha was working in one of the training fields.

“A golf cart?”

“That one they use when senators visit,” Darcy said, getting her purse.

“Ahhhhhhhhh! B Seven!” Darcy shrieked, hitting the gas pedal as hard as she could when she saw he was standing a little off to the side at the back of Field B. She wasn’t aiming for him, but she wanted to scare him. He panicked, dodged her–even though she steered three feet away–and ended up rolling halfway down a retention ditch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled. He was all mucky when he stood up.

“Sinking your goddamn battleship!” she said, getting out of the cart and marching towards him. “It’s one thing to take my cereal, but Jane’s Pop Tarts? You asshole!”

“Those were Foster’s?” he asked.

“Like you didn’t know!” Darcy yelled. “This is WAR! This is war!” She turned and got back in the golf cart, reversing it with a whirr.

“Why are you talking like James Carville?” he said, jogging to catch up. She glared at him.

“How did you know I was doing James Carville?” she asked. “Jane never knows when I do James Carville. I love him.”

“I’ve met him,” Rumlow said. “His wife is a Republican.”

“Everybody knows that,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes and pressing the gas to speed away. He clearly underestimated her. “This is WAR!” she yelled again, not looking back.

When she could slow down, she called Skye. Skye knew about the feud. “I want you to burn it all down,” Darcy said, as soon as she answered.

“Like, what steal his social and open a lot of credit cards? Or sell his kidney to a mobster with cirrhosis on the black market and wait for them to come collect?” Skye said.

“No, God, that’s freaky dark, Skye. I just want you to delete all his Spotify playlists, log him out of all his streaming services so he has to look for his passwords, and maybe make it so he can’t tell which podcasts he’s already listened to?” Darcy said. “Nuisance stuff, not wake up in a strange bathtub stuff.”

“Oh my God, what are you, three?” Skye said. “I’d do that to my friends, not my actual enemy!”

“But will you do it?” Darcy asked, parking the cart and going inside.

“Yeah, totally,” Skye said. She laughed wickedly.

“Guess what? Skye’s helping us,” Darcy said, entering the lab. She found Jane studying an Arizona Iced Tea Bottle.

“Good,” Jane said.

“You cannot pee in that,” she said, taking away Jane’s bottle.


	2. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dramatic Chipmunk Plan:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

“Somehow, Rumlow lost all his workout playlists. Thompson said he had a freakout in the gym today,” Linda from R&D said, three spaces ahead of Darcy in the coffee line. It was all Darcy could do not to fist pump in public. Success!

“I didn’t know Spotify could lose your data like that,” the other scientist said.

“Apparently, it was just all wiped out,” Linda said. Darcy grinned to herself and turned up her Lucinda Williams playlist. That’d teach him.

“Jane, we did it,” Darcy said, cackling evilly, when she got back to the lab. “Now, onto Phase Two.”

“Phase Two?” Jane said.

“It’s all part of my nefarious strategy. We pretend to--hold on, I gotta queue up the right footage--”

“The dramatic squirrel?” Jane said, when she opened the Youtube video.

“One, that’s a chipmunk. Two, yes, Rumlow is our squirrel. Just when he thinks he’s safe to leave the tree, we hit him again!” Darcy said. She pressed play on Dramatic Chipmunk. It did its little turn towards the camera as ominous music played. “See?” Darcy said.

“Not really?” Jane said. “What exactly is your plan?”

“I go find him in a few days, I say, ‘oh gee, I’m really super duper sorry our feud got out of hand, I’ll restore your playlists, I’d really like us to get along, blah blah blah.’ He falls for it, because he’s arrogant and dumb. And then, we hit him again. Skye has dug up the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen in my life. In my life!” Darcy said.

“What?” Jane said.

“He was a catalog model for shiny shirts in the 90s. In the Macy’s circular,” Darcy said. “He looks about seventeen.”

“Shiny shirts?” Jane said.

“Uh-huh. And he had floppy, centered parted hair. We’re gonna plaster this facility with photos of him in Easter egg lavender,” Darcy said. “Look.” She pulled up the email.

“It’s so….90s,” Jane said, astounded. “He looks like he could be on _Charmed.”_

“See, I was thinking Uncle Jesse’s secret evil doppelganger Uncle Jamie on _Full House,_ but I like the way your mind works,” Darcy said. “I mean, he’s clearly a secret demon who steals perfectly good vacations and we’re going to defeat him, like good witch sisters. Should the three of us get those matching Celtic necklaces?”

“Clearly, I need to give you more work,” Jane said.

“You’re totally the Piper of the sisterhood,” Darcy said.

“I am not boring and uptight,” Jane said.

“Who has a hunky, nay angelic, blonde boyfriend who just appears and disappears and answers to mood-killers up in the sky, though?” Darcy pointed out.

“Shit,” Jane said.

“Just don’t name your kid Wyatt, that got all messed up,” Darcy said. “I needed a flowchart for all the time-traveling adult-aged spawn.”

“You’re clearly Phoebe,” Jane said. Darcy nodded.

“And Skye is 100% Prue, because she has terrifying skills and can move things with her mind,” Darcy drawled.

“What things?” Jane said.

“Oh, all of Rumlow’s podcast subscriptions, his passwords on a bunch of websites, and, uh, his autoships for protein powder,” Darcy said, laughing. “You’re gonna be all outta French Vanilla PowerBoost in a day, bitch, and you don’t even know,” she told the photo of shiny shirt Baby Rumlow.

“I think you’re letting the Power of Three go to your head,” Jane said. But she turned less sanguine when Rumlow snuck into the lab that afternoon and stole her favorite pens and a beloved, holey Culver sweatshirt. “That fucker!” she hissed. “Let’s get him! I want to slap his stupid, shiny shirt face.”

“Calm down, Scrappy Doo, this is all part of the plan,” Darcy said. “He probably thinks those are mine. Skye’s seen where he’s hiding our stuff on the facility cameras. We can get them back soon. But I’ve got a delivery in five.”

“A delivery?” Jane said. ”You’re sending him things?”

“Skye says he’s nuts for this particular kind of New York-only cookie. He can’t resist them. I sent a huge birthday box to one of the other STRIKE guys. Today’s his birthday, but we’re getting the gift,” Darcy said.

“I don’t get it,” Jane said.

“Watch this,” Darcy said, pulling up the feed of the STRIKE offices. They could see the huge box being delivered. The birthday boy got a cookie, Jack got a cookie, the other guys got cookies. There were still plenty of cookies. “They’ve got a meeting in a few minutes,” Darcy said. Jane leaned forward as Rumlow was the last man to leave. He stopped in front of the box, looked away, then looked back. He licked his lips.

“Why is he tapping his hand like that on the desk?” Jane said.

“This what someone who goes cold turkey looks like when they fall off the cookie wagon, baby!” Darcy said. They watched, rapt, as he picked up the first cookie. Then another. And another.

“He just put eight cookies in the pockets of his tactical pants,” Jane said.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “Guess who weighs in the SHIELD gym every morning? It’s a fancy digital scale and linked into the WiFi network for system updates, but it’s going to be slightly off tomorrow.”

“How off?” Jane asked.

“Oh, four pounds,” Darcy said.

“And the day after that….?” Jane asked.

“Six and a half.”

“Ohhhhh,” Jane said. “That’s bad. You’re bad.”

“No, I am excellent,” Darcy insisted.

The next day, Jane told her to make it nine and a half on the third day: he’d raided the lab at night and stolen her Thor Funko-Pop and all the key lime bars out of their treat mini freezer. Jane cursed him vehemently and then looked over as Darcy chuckled at the camera feed. “Why are you smiling?” Jane asked her.

“He actually came down through the vents in a climbing harness,” she said. She picked up her phone.

“What now?” Jane said.

“His favorite cake? Agent Holden has a birthday tomorrow,” Darcy said. “Also, Skye has changed the size on his work uniform briefs in SHIELD’s system, so the new package”--she grinned-- “that he’s getting today will be a little snug. And his shirts will be a little loose around the shoulders, he’ll think he’s losing muscle mass.”

“You’re amazing,” Jane said.

 

***

“It’s time for the next phase,” Darcy said, one afternoon. She texted Skye. They had a pre-programmed signal to restore all the digital stuff.

“Blessed be,” Jane snarked. They’d been playing _Charmed_ in the lab when they weren’t watching him circle the dessert boxes and pull at his underwear when no one was looking. Rumlow was running himself ragged at the gym, trying to lose his invisible cookie weight. Darcy was afraid he might pull something or have a heart attack. Skye had uncovered that he was older than Darcy had thought. She’d assumed he was, like, thirty-eight or something, but he was actually closer to fifty. Dude was practically a grandpa.

"I'll be back," Darcy said.

Unsurprisingly, she found him exercising. He was punching the shit out of a little ball tethered to a frame. “What did it do to you?” she asked. He turned and grimaced.

“It stole my podcasts and has me drinking plain protein powder,” he grumbled. “What do you want? Should I be prepared to be shot or just poisoned?” He sat down on a nearby bench, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with a towel. She sat down next to him and tried to look demure and innocent. She told her brain to do the face Steve Rogers made whenever he was the guest of honor at a museum exhibit about his twenties. 50% perfect aw shucks, 30% _who me?_ , and 20% secretly naughty.

“No, God, I feel like things have gotten out of hand, okay? I didn’t mean for them to escalate so badly,” Darcy said. “I’m sorry, okay? I can restore your podcasts if you’ll give Jane back her sweatshirt and her Pop Tarts?” She sighed and played with the edge of her shirt in what she hoped was an innocent-looking fashion. “How does that sound?” she asked. She looked at him.

“I didn’t know those were hers,” he said, “my problem is with you, you little fucking biter. I’ll return her stuff.”

“What about my stuff?” she said. “I am sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he snapped. “My socks still smell like somebody’s Aunt Myrtle.” Darcy giggled. “It’s not funny,” he said.

“It’s a little funny. And I miss my cereal,” she said.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “Feud over. Things returned. Maria’s been on my ass about apologizing to you, anyway.”

“That was very gracious,” Darcy said silkily. “Friends?” She extended a hand.

“I know you’re mocking me,” he said, but he shook her hand anyway.

“All right,” Darcy said, rising.

“You’re going?” he said.

“Don’t you want me to fix your things?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. Darcy snapped her fingers. A moment or two later, she could hear music from his gym bag. Skye had restored the playlists and started one. He dug for his phone.

“Shit,” he said, “how’d you do that?” He looked from her to the screen.

“Magic,” Darcy said. “But you’re going to need to change your own underwear, Commander.” She left the gym.

“Shit,” he repeated. “How’d you do that?” he called.

“Check the tag!” she yelled from the hallway.

Darcy left the gym feeling elated. A few minutes later, a box arrived with all their items. Phase Two had gone perfectly. “What now?” Jane said, wrapping Funko Thor in her sweatshirt.

“We pretend to be friends,” Darcy said, “and we wait.” She rubbed her hands together.

“Sometimes, I worry Phil made a mistake when he introduced you to Skye,” Jane mused.

 

 

***

But the next phase didn’t go quite as planned. To begin, even their pretend friendship-slash-social-neutrality was rocky. Darcy was capable of faking it, but Rumlow kept _doing_ things: teasing her that she wouldn’t recognize a vegetable in the cafeteria line, leaving passive aggressive notes about her ‘terrible taste in too-loud music’ on the general whiteboard for R&D, ordering the last of her favorite chocolate pastry at the on-site coffee shop when she was in line behind him and then _throwing it away. In front of her!_  That last one prompted a huge screaming match at lunch. She called him a thoughtless piece of shit. He called her a total bitch. Eventually, Jack made them sit down and talk. Then that turned into a sit-down screaming match and they were asked to leave the cafeterla for disturbing the other employees. She and Brock were still squabbling in Wing A on the way back to the lab when Darcy heard a click ahead of them. It sound like the automatic doors. “What was that?” Darcy asked.

“The sound of you yakking, sweetheart?” he murmured.

“Shut up, I’m serious,” she said. She walked over to the door. It didn’t budge when she waved her arms, stepped back and forth, pushed the door, pulled the door, or even jumped up on the mat. Rumlow laughed at her efforts, then sauntered over to the door himself.

“There’s an emergency latch,” he said confidently. He pulled the latch. Nothing happened. He yanked harder. No change. “Shit,” he said.

 _“There’s an emergency latch,”_ Darcy said, mimicking his voice in an unflattering way.

“You can shut up anytime,” he groused. Darcy was already checking her phone.

“I have no signal,” she said.

“You can’t not have a signal here,” Brock scolded.

“Oh, yes I can,” Darcy said. Skye could fritz out anything. But why?

 

***

“Do you feel like there’s sexual chemistry?” Skye said, studying the live feed of Darcy and Rumlow arguing in the cafeteria. She was talking to Jane by phone.

“Possibly,” Jane said, thinking of how many times Darcy had added another layer of activity onto the plan, with every delay between them and Hawaii. “But she was really into Maui,” she admitted. “It could be that. She blames him.”

“So, I shouldn’t seal them in this hallway?” Skye said. “Whoops, too late!”

“Skye!” Jane said.

“What, my finger slipped. Besides, they’ll boink it out, he’ll probably be an asshole, and she’ll let me go with my original plan to harvest his organs. It’s a win-win,” Skye said.

“How is that a win-win?” Jane asked.

“I wanna know if I can do all that with a laptop. Could Romanoff introduce me to any black market smugglers?” Skye said.

“Oh my God, you’re supposed to be the responsible oldest witch!” Jane scolded.

“Pffht, I’ve never even watched that show,” Skye said. “Why are they not screwing already? They’re just yelling at each other.”

 

***

“You know, I have _tried_ to be civil with you,” Darcy said. “I don’t even know why I bothered!” Darcy paced the hallway, arms crossed. “I should have slugged you on that beach in Hawaii.”

“Should have? You tried--and failed, because you’re weak,” he said. “I did you a favor, taking those Pop Tarts. At your age--”

“Oh, you wanna talk about that? You’re impossible to get along with, you sixty year old crab!” Darcy yelled.

“I am not sixty,” he said hotly.

“In a year or two, Pop Pop, you’ll be one of those old men running the neighborhood association and having a moral panic about teenagers in hoodies who drink Red Bull,” she said sharply. Darcy marched down to the other hallway. She waved her arms and jumped up and down in front of that door. Nothing happened. “Damn it!” she said.

“Hey,” he said, tone shifting to one of amusement, “I don’t have any trouble with women. Women love me.”

“Relevance?” Darcy said, glaring over her shoulder.

“Unlike some people, I’m not terminally single,” he said archly. “Or desperate for someone’s attention.”

“I don’t think I follow you,” Darcy said, now just pretending to try and activate a sensor somewhere. Anywhere. She wasn’t going to look at him.

“How long has been, huh? Don’t tell me it was the British guy in your file? What was his name again, Benedict Crumpet or some shit?” he asked teasingly.

“Ian is a totally normal name, _Brock Rumlow._ And what are you doing reading my file? That is a complete violation of my privacy!” she said, turning to march at him. “I’ll report you to Phil for that!” She got up in his face and he actually tried to grab her shoulders. Darcy squawked irately and tried to evade him, but he barked out a laugh and held his arms out, like he was guarding in basketball and advanced on her.

“Oh, sure, yeah, run straight to Phil, little teacher’s pet,” he said, backing her against a sidewall.

“It is rude to buy the last pain au chocolat if you’re not going to eat it!” she yelled at him, poking him in the chest. He chuckled.

“That really gets to you, huh? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it, can you?” he said.

“It’s chocolate!” she yelled.

“This is all about chocolate, huh?” he said. There was a tense pause and then a rattling sound behind them. Darcy turned her head. Cameron Klein had unlocked the door from the outside.

“Uh, guys?” he said. “Everything okay? I heard yelling?”

“Thanks, Cam,” Darcy said brightly. Then she made her eyes deadly. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she hissed at Rumlow, slipping under his arm to escape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the idea of floppy hair Rumlow seems impossible, I point you to this fuzzy video of Frank Grillo on a soap (at minute 2:20, his now-wife IRL is the one he's talking to on the HUGE phone, she's so incredibly beautiful that the 90s fashion doesn't even phase her/register): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nURwIYLDsxU


	3. We Can't Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

“Argh! That schmuck implied I’m doing this because I _want his attention and he’s irresistible to women,”_ Darcy said, stomping furiously into the lab. “And why did Skye lock us in there? I didn’t have a weapon! He is totally lucky, by the way, because I would have cracked his thick skull like an egg,” she grumbled. Jane wasn’t talking. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Darcy said.

“Uhhhhhhh, data?” Jane said.

“Are you preoccupied with something other than my very important prank war?” Darcy said.

“Possibly,” Jane admitted. “Also, I just got an email that Justin Hammer is visiting here tomorrow.”

“Yuck, I can’t believe that parole board let him out early because of his _otherwise blameless life,_ he totally bribed somebody,” Darcy said. “What is he doing here?”

“SHIELD needs new weapons, since they lost their stockpiles during the whole HYDRA thing. We have to avoid him,” Jane said, then noticed Darcy’s expression. “What is it?” Jane asked.

“Or maybe we don’t need to avoid him?” Darcy said wickedly.

“What?” Jane said. “You hate Justin Hammer!”

“Yes, but you know who hates Justin Hammer just as much as us? The guys who have to deal with him as a weapons contractor,” Darcy said. “They really, really loathe him. You heard Rhodey that time he had all those tequila shooters! And Rhodey loves everybody and has the patience of a saint.”

“Oh my God, you’ve gone full-blown evil. You’re not going to flirt with Justin, are you?” Jane said.

“Maybe a little. Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Darcy said, dancing a little in her chair. “Friday is Bring Your Boobs to Work Day and I’m going to teach them how to flatter an extremely insecure rich guy.”

“Why are they all so insecure? The rich guys?” Jane wondered.

“The world may never know. But it keeps Maserati, Gucci, and Victoria’s Secret models in business,” Darcy said, shrugging. “Maybe I can get Justin to give me a Porsche? Do you think second-base would be enough, since he’s been in prison for so long?”

“Darcy!” Jane said.

“What? Shiny Shirt Rumlow thinks I’m some desperate single woman? No way, not with an obnoxiously rich guy buying me stuff. Ha ha, asshole. Just for that, I’m fucking with his scale again,” Darcy grumbled.

“Sometimes, I wish Phil had just left us in Hawaii and let us tackle our own attackers,” Jane said, sighing.

“Right? I totally could have handled it myself, unless it was aliens,” Darcy said.

“It’s always aliens,” Jane said.

  


 

***

“I’m going to check my chickens and put on my lipstick,” Darcy announced, when she saw Skye’s message that Justin Hammer had cleared base security.

“Check your chickens?” Jane said.

“My silicone bra inserts,” Darcy explained, patting the bra under her sweatshirt. They looked like chicken breasts, oddly. People called them chicken cutlets.

“You gave yourself more boobs?” Jane said incredulously.

“Jane, don’t be jelly, I’ll let you borrow them,” Darcy said. She got up and took off the sweatshirt. Underneath, she was wearing a top she’d never wear to work--not normally. The combo of real boob and silicone boob threatened to overpower the scoop neck like high tide and an ocean wall during a hurricane. “What do you think?” she asked Jane.

“Dear God,” Jane said. “I really need to borrow those sometime.”

“As soon as this phase of the plan is over, I will clean them and bequeath them to you,” Darcy said. She wiggled her bra little as she stood in front of the lab’s glass wall. A passing Cameron Klein accidentally walked into the water fountain, then turned beet red. Darcy waved at him. Then she bopped off to the bathroom to put on more makeup. It wouldn’t do to be subtle. The Justin Hammers of the world didn’t grasp subtlety. Then she went to ‘accidentally run into’ a weapons manufacturer.

 

Skye was tracking him, so Darcy was following a little green dot labeled _Sleazy Dude._ She turned a corner and saw Justin Hammer standing there next to an uncomfortable-looking Jack. Justin was clearly yammering and tapping his foot. He tended to do that. When he saw her, he actually slid down his sunglasses and stared. “Darcy, baby!” he called out, opening his arms. This was a good day for him. When they first met, he’d called her Darby.

“Justinnnnnnn!” Darcy trilled back. “How are you?” She hurried over and threw her arms around him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “I should have asked! Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course you can, baby,” he said. “I’d always take hugs, it’s why I’ve been divorced so many times. You look fantastic. You and Jane here?” He settled his hands on her waist, smiling smarmily.

“For a little while. It’s so boring! We were in Hawaii, but then this guy kidnapped us,” Darcy said, pointing her thumb at an astounded-looking Jack. “It was my first vacation in years!” she said, shifting to a sad voice.

“Hawaii? Oh, that, that was a mistake,” Justin said. He pointed at Jack. ”You’re a very bad guy, aren’t you? Well, listen, honey, I’ve still got my place in the Hamptons. You know, they can take your freedom, but not your real estate? How would you like to go away for the weekend, huh?”

“A whole weekend in the Hamptons?” Darcy said, making sure to look wide-eyed and suitably impressed.

“Yeah, we’ll bring Foster along, too. Have some Dom, throw a party, do a little dancing?” he said, as Rumlow walked up to them.

“Great,” Darcy trilled again. “But you’ll have to teach me. I remember what a fantastic dancer you are,” she said. In her peripheral vision, she saw Brock tow Jack a few feet away. They were whispering.

“Well, you know what they say, baby, dancing is dangerous because it might lead to sex,” he said, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Darcy laughed.

“I’ll go tell Jane!” she said, stepping backwards. Rumlow was still talking to Jack. She hoped he really hated Justin Hammer.

“Yeah, you will,” Justin said, grinning and doing a little dance. He checked his diamond-studded watch. “Can you be ready in, oh, three hours? Bring your bathing suit?”

“Oh, all I need to grab is my toothbrush,” she said saucily.

 

Darcy was hurrying to tell Jane when she heard heavy footsteps behind her. “What the fuck are you doing?” Rumlow said suddenly. She turned.

“Getting a free vacation, duh,” she said.

“A free vacation? With that creep? He’s a felon,” Rumlow said. “And his surface missiles are shit.”

“Is that a technical term or have you had sex with Justin?” she asked archly.

“This is serious,” he said.

“Is it? There will be approximately five million people there. He throws huge parties, there will be tons of security, Jane and I will be fine,” she said. She’d seen the coverage of Hammer’s parties and heard about them from Tony. Before his conviction, he’d once thrown an all-white “White Collar Crime” themed pool party. With five hundred guests. “And he’s done his time,” Darcy added.

“You don’t care what that says about you?” Rumlow said.

“That I like the ocean and free crab puffs? What exactly do you think it says about me?” she said, raising both eyebrows. Darcy crossed her arms. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shook his head.

“I retract that,” he said stiffly. “Just take the damn taser with you.” He turned on his heel and left.

 

“Absolutely not,” Jane said. “We are not spending the weekend with that creep. You are definitely not.”

“What?” Darcy said.

“What if he gives you molly?” Jane said in a panicked voice.

“What is molly, Jane?” Darcy asked. She didn’t think Jane actually knew. Jane was super responsible and had never even taken marijuana. Not even when Erik toked up like he was a human bong in Amsterdam.

“I don’t know, I’m not that kind of doctor! All I know is, it made Miley Cyrus crazy, okay? Do you want to end up naked with bleached hair?” Jane said.

“No,” Darcy said. “Not with Justin, anyway. He is actually a good dancer, though, for a creep. He did this little thing, like a cooler Running Man…” She tried to demonstrate and her boob almost escaped. “Whoops, get back here,” Darcy said.

“Please stop,” Jane said.

“But Jane, beaches and free booze!” Darcy whined.

“Criminal host,” Jane said.

“But it’s not like he’s a Russian oligarch or something really scary. He’s an ineffectual type criminal,” Darcy insisted.

“That’s it, I’m texting Justin a note that we had a lab accident and you’re radioactive. That will scare him off,” Jane said, texting wildly.

“Fine, take all the really hot guys from Asgard _and_ my shot at being the fifth Mrs. Hammer,” Darcy grumbled.

“What is wrong with you?” Jane said.

“I’m bored and antsy. I want to have fun! I’m tired of all my selfies being of me petting dogs and eating cupcakes.” She had an idea. She picked up the phone. “Skye, can you make it look like I’m at a party at the Hamptons? On my Instagram?” Darcy asked.

  


***

Darcy had to make it seem like she wasn’t in her on-base apartment, so she crashed at Jane’s in her pajamas. “Skye is so great,” she said, snagging Jane’s phone. Jane was watching a documentary. Darcy had left her phone, so it would seem like she was busy partying and not actively browsing on social media.

“What?” Jane said, peering over.

“She’s photoshopped me all over the photos from Justin’s party,” Darcy explained, chewing popcorn. They were sitting there, snacking and scrolling through Netflix when there was a knock at the door. A heavy knock. “Jesus,” Darcy said. “Is that an Asgardian?”

“They usually land on the lawn or the roof first, though,” Jane said, going to the door.

“True,” she said. Darcy ducked down so she wasn’t visible above the sofa.

“Can you call Lewis, she’s not answering my calls?” Darcy heard Rumlow say suddenly. “I’m worried Hammer has tried some shit, okay? The man’s practically got date rapist across his forehead.”

“I talked him out of driving up there,” Jack’s voice said. “Please make him stop worrying, he’s driving me bloody mad.”

“How do you have my number?” Darcy said, sitting up.

“You’re here?” Rumlow said, staring at her. “In your pajamas?”

“The sheep are nice, love,” Jack said.

“Thank you,” Darcy said. “You can’t tell from there, but they have smiley faces.”

“But how--?” Rumlow said, looking from her to his phone.

“Jack, please tell Grandpa Rumlow about Photoshop,” Darcy said.

“Oh,” Rumlow said.

“Come watch TV with us,” Jane said. To Darcy’s surprise, both of them came into the apartment. Rumlow plopped down next to Darcy and stole her popcorn.

“I can’t believe you did that to me, why’d you do that? Trick photos,” Rumlow grumbled. “Can you explain why you thought that was necessary?”

“Jane thought he’d turn me into a drug addict, obviously. She won’t let me have any fun, so I have to settle for Photoshopped fake fun,” Darcy said.

“I wouldn’t let her go try to be the fifth Mrs. Hammer. Beer?” Jane said, getting them beers when they assented.

“Too right,” Jack said. “He’s a bad sort. Thank you.” Brock nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, taking his bottle.

“I could have bought you lots of fancy equipment with my divorce settlement!” Darcy said, still pouting.

“We love your accent so much,” Jane said to Jack.

“Totally,” Darcy said, as Rumlow scoffed. She turned to look at him. “What was that? Did you have something to say? Care to share what name you use when you sneak follow me on social media?” Darcy asked.

“Nevermind,” Rumlow said, drinking some of his beer.

“Hey, Jack, I’ve been meaning to ask you something important,” Darcy said.

“Oh, yeah, love?” Jack asked curiously.

“Are Wallaby Darneds real drinks in Australia or did the Outback Steakhouse just make them up?” Darcy asked.

“They’re bellinis,” Rumlow interjected. “They fucking stole them from Italy.”

“You drink bellinis? You, Mr. Protein Powder?” Darcy said, astounded.

“Alcohol’s different,” he said.

“What if we make some? Make up for your lack of a fun weekend?” Jack offered.

“I’m game,” Jane said.

“She says yes to that, but I can’t go to the Hamptons, oh no,” Darcy said. “Even though I gave her my chickens!”

“The Hamptons? They’re rich people bullshit beaches. What chickens?” Rumlow said, looking around as if he expected a live chicken to appear, walking into the room.

“She stuffed her bra with silicone inserts that look like chicken breasts to seduce Justin Hammer!” Jane said, laughing. Jack chortled.

“You stuffed your bra?” Rumlow said, starting to laugh.

“Shut up and give me back my popcorn,” Darcy said.

“Fine,” he said, shoving the bowl at her. They bickered while Jane and Jack googled copycat stolen bellini recipes. Darcy was arguing with him about the beach versus the city when he decided to leave. “You’re going?” Darcy said.

“I have reports,” Rumlow said, as Jack made Darcy and Jane drinks. When he left, Jack grinned.

“He’s got a bit of a crush, darl.” He handed her the peachy drink.

“Really?” Darcy said. “This is a fantastic drink, Jack.” He smiled.

“Duh,” Jane said. “Skye totally called it.”

“Is that why she locked us in?” Darcy asked.

“He’s wound up about you,” Jack said. “What all did you do? He won’t admit it all.” They filled in a laughing Jack on all their pranks, plus showed him the photos of young Shiny Shirt Rumlow.

“I need copies of this,” Jack said.

“Done,” Darcy said. She forwarded him Skye’s file. They had more drinks and swapped crazy alien stories.

 

Darcy was the only one awake in the living room when Rumlow returned around midnight. “Where’s Jack?” he asked.

“Wearing Clint’s best party hat,” Darcy said, gesturing to where Jack was passed out. He got up early, so apparently, he passed out early. She still had plenty of energy.

“Lewis, that’s a lampshade,” he said.

“Yeah. Clint’s favorite.”

“Jesus,” he said.

“Did you want a drink?” she asked. He nodded.

“Where’s Jane?” he said.

“Her room,” Darcy said, pouring him the last slosh out of the blender.

“She passed out, huh?” Brock asked.

“Actually, she might be hooking up with Thor.”

“What?”

“It was an amicable breakup, they have phone sex occasionally when he’s got reception,” she said. He grinned.

“All that means is that she dumped him. Nasty breakups are when the man walks out. When the woman does it and the man wouldn’t mind getting back in there, it’s an amicable breakup,” Brock said.

“That’s incredibly sexist, but accurate to their situation,” Darcy admitted. He laughed. “Did you miss us?” Darcy joked.

“Sure,” he said casually. He looked at her. “Wanted to make sure you weren’t throwing all your chickens at Hammer again.”

“As if Jane would let me,” she said. She tilted her head and contemplated him as he drank. “How do you feel about chickens?”

“I like ‘em okay,” Brock said. “A normal amount.” His eyes drifted to her chest and then he dragged them forcibly back.

“Oh, yeah?” Darcy said. “Tell me about that? What you like?”

“Why?” he said.

“Curiosity. What do you like sexually?” Darcy asked, walking up to him. She put her hands on his t-shirt. He looked nervous. “Can I kiss you?” He leaned forward and Darcy licked her lips. Then he stopped.

“Is this one of your pranks?” Brock asked.

“What?” Darcy said.

“Are you going to trick me?” Brock said. “Revenge porn me or something?”

“What?” Darcy said. “One, that’s a crime. Two, I’m insulted. I offer to kiss you and you assume the worst possible thing? Maybe I just wanted to make out a little and see you do big eyes when my shirt comes off, okay?”

“Seriously?” he said. “Big eyes?”

“It’s a thing men do, like this,” she said. Darcy made her eyes go wide, then rolled them.

“Really?” he said.

“Duh,” she said. “Look, boobs!” Darcy yanked her pajama top up, briefly flashing him. “See? You just did big eyes.”

“You just drive by tittied me,” he said, blinking.

“That’s nothing, she flashed half of Norway,” Jane said, appearing in the doorway.

“Exactly,” Darcy said. “I don’t understand the problem, they’re just boobs. More than half the population has boobs.”

“More than half?” Brock said, looking confused.

“What do you need? Water?” Darcy asked Jane.

“And AA batteries, I’m out in there,” Jane said. Grinning, Darcy got her the stuff and told her to have fun with Thor. When Darcy turned back, Brock was staring. “Haven’t you seen Charlie Reynolds jogging? Total man boobs,” she said, continuing their conversation. “Hence more than half the population.”

“I don’t get you,” he said.

“God, you really are an uptight Grandpa. Jane likes sex, Thor likes sex, sometimes they still get together. This is a sex-positive household. I thought we could fool around some, no strings, I had no idea that was so confusing for you.”

“I know this is a goddamn trick. I’m taking Jack home,” he said, reaching down to get the lampshade.

“I’ll help you,” Darcy said. They half-carried a sleepy Jack back to Brock’s apartment and sat him on the couch.

“Thanks,” Brock said, seemingly catching her eyeing his apartment. It was very spartan and neat.

“You’re welcome--but wait! I’m sure you think it was some kind of a trick,” she said dryly, leaving in her bedroom slippers.

“You cannot blame me for having trust issues with you right now,” he said from the doorway.

“Trust issues?” Darcy said. “Seriously?”

“You shrank my underwear! Like a witch!” he said.

“We just changed the size in the computer system, oh my God,” she said. “You didn’t notice it was a new pack?”

“Oh,” he said.

“Goodnight, asshole!” she called, shuffling down the hallway.

 

But Darcy couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned and got more and more grumpy. How dare he use _trust issues_ on her! How dare he be so obviously crushing and yet reject her advances, too. The nerve of him. She could fix that. Jane was busy with Thor, probably. Darcy sat up, looked at the clock. It was only one in the morning. Wouldn’t a Hamptons party go all night? How far away was the Hamptons? Could she sneak off via Uber and actually have some freaking fun? She called Skye and started vocalizing her plan.

“Oh, you should definitely blow that joint,” Skye said. “SHIELD is such a prison!”

“I’m doing it,” Darcy said, getting out of bed. “I’m so tired of these funsuckers. All they’ve ever done is stolen my joy. And my iPod.”

“You need to do what sparks joy,” Skye said.

“What sparks joy for you?” Darcy asked, getting dressed in the dark. Skye had called her an Uber.

“Felonies, mostly,” Skye said.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration: the PMJ cover of "We Can't Stop" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXYWDtXbBB0


	4. Wendigo!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos.

Darcy’s Uber couldn’t get through the gate guard, apparently. She would have to walk the quarter-mile to the base gate, quietly, in the dark, and alone. It sucked. She was muttering curses to herself as she crept out of the building using her dimmed cellphone as a flashlight. Her feet made a little noise on the asphalt driveway, but as she walked through the dark, she swore she heard _something_ in the woods some ten feet away. “Whatever you are,” she said clearly, “I will tase your goddamn balls off if you try any shit.” In response, she heard the snapping of twigs. All of a sudden, she had a vivid childhood memory of the Wendigo episode of _Charmed_ , where one of the sisters wandered around a creepy park, pursued by one _._ This was entirely too much like that, Darcy thought, as she heard another weird ass noise. “Shit, shit, shit,” she said, as she started to run. Her purse slapped against her hip, her boobs bounced, and her boots squeezed her toes, but she was not gonna get grabbed by a freaking Wendigo. She was panting and out of breath within a few minutes of jogging, but she kept looking back. Was that movement? “I will tase you!” Darcy shouted. She ran faster, purse slapping and jangling, heart thudding, footsteps echoing creepily.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Darcy said in relief, when the gate house came into view. She yanked out her ID and slapped it against the glass case. “Let me through!” she yelled. The sleepy-looking guard stared at her for a moment, as if she didn’t seem quite real, then nodded. He pressed a button and the metal gates to the visitor lot opened. Darcy hurried to the car. It was a Civic. She was so freaked out, she fumbled the door handle. Her hands were sweaty. She looked at the driver in the front seat. She was frowning. “I’m Darcy,” she said. “And you’re?”

“Jenny?” the driver said. The right name. The one Skye had given her. She looked like a teacher, too.

Darcy slid into the seat, put her purse in her lap, and was buckling her seatbelt when the other door opened. “Ah!” she said.

“What are you doing?” Brock said, looking into the car.

“Were you _following me_? I thought you were the Wendigo!” Darcy screeched.

“The what?” he said.

“Fictional monster, mostly native to the Pacific Northwest and Canadian legend,” Jenny supplied, in a very teachery fashion.

“Thanks,” Brock said. “Ms.?”

“Jenny,” Jenny said.

“Jenny, I’m going to pay you,” Brock said, “for your trouble, and take my slightly insane friend here off your hands.” He handed Jenny what was clearly two hundred dollars.

“Thank you,” Jenny said, smiling. She looked at Darcy.

“Darcy,” Brock said.

“Fine,” Darcy said, getting out. She watched the tail lights of the Civic fade sadly. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I hate you.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said. “That makes a change from, oh, thirty minutes ago. Are you always such an emotional seesaw?”

“No,” Darcy said sullenly. “I--I just want out, okay? I need a break from SHIELD, from science, from people following me. Hawaii was supposed to be the break I used as a mental escape hatch-slash-workplace daydream for the next two to three years.” She felt sad.

“Well,” Brock said. “Let’s go.” To her surprise, he didn’t turn back to the base. He headed for the parking lot. Darcy followed behind him.

“Where are you going?” Darcy said.

“Getting my car,” he said mirthfully. He sounded entirely too damn amused, Darcy thought.

“Are you sober enough to drive?” Darcy asked.

“Sure,” he said casually. “Pleasant side effect of being exposed to a HYDRA serum once.”

“What?” Darcy said. “A serum? Like Steve?”

“But much, much nastier. It did amp my metabolism, so I process alcohol faster, that was a plus of my first near-death experience with HYDRA,” he said.

“Is that why you’re all…?” Darcy said.

“All what?” Brock said, hitting a button on a keyfob. The lights on a nearby Jeep illuminated.

“Muscley?” Darcy said, feeling like she’d just given up something important. She wasn’t supposed to have paid that much attention to him when he was shirtless at the gym. It jeopardized the balance of the prank war.

“Did you want to see the before and after photos of me in my underwear, sweetheart? They’re not at the Smithsonian, but I could find them for you? Get you personal copies?” he said, opening his passenger door.

“Bite me,” Darcy grumbled. “I can just leave?”

“I’m your security, remember? Where you wanna go?” he asked.

“I dunno, somewhere, anywhere.” She texted Jane to say she was with safe with Brock.

 

 

***

“People bowl all night?” Darcy said, when they pulled up in front of the bowling alley. “Where are we and why did you bring me here?”

“I wanted to make you wear smelly shoes,” he said. “And they don’t bowl all night, just ‘til 4am or so.” He seemed to know people at this bowling alley, Darcy realized. Worse, he was a good bowler. She was freaking lousy. She’d done two gutter balls when he actually laughed so hard that he had to sit down and the owner came over to see what the fuss was about. He looked at Darcy’s score, then at her.

“Eh,” he said, “at least she’s nice to look at, kid,” Darcy glared. Brock was laughing so hard he was actually weeping.

“Will someone tell me what I’m doing wrong?” she said.

“Show me your gutter ball again,” Brock said. Darcy demonstrated. This time she got one pin.

“Yes!” she said. When she turned back, he was smirking. “I got one!” she said proudly. “What did I do better?”

“No idea,” he said, swigging his beer, “I was looking at your ass the whole time. It’s the only good thing about bowling.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, stealing his glass and drinking some.

“Go again, you can take my turn,” he said.

“You’re a pervy old man,” she told him.

“I’m not that old,” he said. They closed down the bowling alley. When they went outside, he veered to the right.

“Where are you going?” Darcy said, yawn. She was starting to feel tired from all the beer. She didn’t have a fancy metabolism.

“More adventures,” he said. “You’re hungry, right?” They went a few blocks and then he stopped and went up to a porch.

“Oh my God, are you breaking into someone’s house?” Darcy said, horrified.

“What, you mind criminals now? C’mon, Prank Girl,” he said. “Expand your skill set into petty crimes.” He went inside. Darcy stood on the sidewalk for a second, blinking. On one hand, she didn’t want to break into a house. On the other hand, a strange neighborhood and no car? Darcy was weighing her options when he stuck his head out, laughing. “Idiot,” he said. “This is my sister’s house.”

“You have a sister?” Darcy said, hurrying up the steps and going inside. He shut the door behind her, locked it, and disappeared into another room. Darcy followed, feeling slightly off-kilter and strange. There was a woman in a bathrobe sitting in the kitchen. Darcy stopped.

“If your drunk ass wakes up my kids, I will kill you,” she announced, glaring at him.

“I'm not drunk," he said. The woman rolled her eyes. "This is my sister, Fallon,” he said. “This is Darcy.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said to Darcy.  

“Hi,” Darcy said, waving. “Nice to meet you.”

“We’re just going to order pizza,” he said. Fallon nodded and yawned.

“I’m going to bed. Don’t let the pizza man ring the bell, it wakes them.” She shuffled off. Brock met the pizza man at the door and brought her back the world’s best pizza. Or, he said it was, and she was so hungry and sleepy that it was delicious.

“Okay, in this case, I will agree with you. This is the world’s best pizza,” Darcy said, yawning.

“You think so?” he said, grinning. “I like the company,” he told her, reaching over to wipe off a smear of marinara with his thumb. He leaned in, smiling.

“Now? Now, you want to kiss me?” she said, incredulous. “In your sister’s kitchen? At four-fifty-eight in the morning?”

“When you put it like that, it really does kill the mood,” Brock said. “Nah, I’m good.”

“I hate you,” she grumbled.

 

 

*** 

Darcy woke up to the sensation of someone poking her in the stomach. “Uhhhhh,” Darcy said. She opened her eyes. A small child was standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she said. She’d fallen asleep on the couch. And drooled a little on the cushion.

“I live here,” the little boy said. “Did you really shrink my Uncle Brock’s underwear?” He looked at her seriously behind his glasses.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, sitting up slightly. Someone had put an afghan on her. “Where is your Uncle Brock? And what’s your name?”

“I can’t tell you that. You’re a total stranger,” he said. “My uncle says you might be a witch.”

“Oh, really?” Darcy said. “Can you help me find your uncle?”

“Nope,” he said, “I gotta go play X-box.” He took off. Darcy stood up and shuffled towards the kitchen. She heard Brock’s voice. He was talking to someone.

“Do you want sprinkles in your pancakes, baby?” he was saying, in a voice she’d never heard before.

“Yes! Lots of sprinkles, Uncle Brock. Pink ones,” a little girl’s voice said.

“No other colors? No blue?” he said.

“No. Well, I could do purple. I like unicorn colors,” she told him. “Do you know what unicorn colors are? Do you have Pinterest?”

“Do I have what now, babygirl?” he said. Darcy peered around the corner. The little girl standing in the kitchen was wearing footie pajamas with kittens on them.  “Look,” he said. “These are all your sprinkles. You sure you don’t want more than pink?” He’d lined them up on the counter for her to see. She peered at them quizzically.

“Uhhhmmmm,” the girl said, “okay, let’s put all of them in.”

“All of them?” Brock said.

“You heard her,” Darcy said. Brock’s head jerked up.

“Hey,” Brock said. He smiled at her.

“You’ve been telling small children that I’m a witch?” Darcy said. The little girl started to laugh.

“You’re not a witch!” she said.

“She’s not?” Brock asked.

“She doesn’t even have a wand,” the little girl said, scoffing. “No, no,” she told Brock, as he reached for one container. “You have to mix them all together in a bowl, so the colors are equal.” She shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” Brock said seriously. “I’m just a sprinkle beginner.”

“I’ll forgive you. What color sprinkles do you want in your pancakes?” she asked Darcy.

“Oh, I want all of them, too,” Darcy said. She caught Brock’s eye roll as he blended sprinkles carefully. “You made the right call. I’m Darcy, what’s your name?” Darcy asked.

“Bianca Jacqueline,” she announced proudly. “I’m a princess. I have a tiara.”

“Oh, your majesty,” Darcy said, “I’m not dressed.”

“She went to Disneyland,” Brock explained.

“I had breakfast with Princess Elsa,” Bianca said. “We’re friends.”

“That must be fun, having a celebrity friend,” Darcy said.

“She likes me because I treat her like a regular person,” Bianca said. “That’s what she told me at breakfast.”

“That right?” Brock said. “What do you think of my colors, honey?”

“Those are acceptable to me,” Bianca said. Darcy almost lost it then. She realized Brock had turned his head to hide his laughter, too.

 

“So,” she said to him, after the funfetti pancakes were all consumed and she texted Jane another update on her whereabouts, “is this how you normally impress a girl? Bowling, pizza, small, adorable children?” They were sitting on the back stoop, watching the kids run in circles and scream.

“You think Bianca and Gerald are adorable?” he asked.

“His name is Gerald?” Darcy said. “He refused to tell me his name, even when I gave him some of my pancakes.”

“He’s smart, he knows quid pro quo is always a sham,” Brock said, chuckling. They sat there for awhile. “What else do you want to do on your break from reality?” he asked Darcy.

“Where are we, anyway?” Darcy asked. It occurred to her that she didn’t actually know.

“We’re in the Bronx, Prank Girl,” he said.

 


	5. Cease Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos! Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates (or is just eating Reese's Eggs 'cause they can, holla)!

“Isn’t there a zoo?” Darcy said. “Would your sister mind if we took them?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” he said. “You want to take two highly sugared children to the zoo on a Saturday? You think my sister won’t give you all the cash in her wallet for a day off? Is this another one of your jokes?” Brock asked. She was looking at her phone.

“They have penguin feedings at three. Can we go, Uncle Brock, can we go?” Darcy asked.

"Sure," he said, sighing and shaking his head.

 

 

***

The penguin feeding was super cute. “I want one of those little penguins,” Bianca announced, when she saw the blue penguins. They were so small, they looked like ducks when they swam.

“No lie, those are adorable,” Darcy said. “I would totally take one of those home.” It was really fun. So was the West Asia monorail, which let you see the animals’ habitats as you rode along. They were leaning forward to spot the tigers and other animal habitats below.

“Tiger!” Bianca yelled. “In the water.” She pointed. The orange cat was sitting in a pool of water. A fairly good-sized pool, Darcy thought. It was a big freaking tiger.

“Cool,” Gerald said. As they watched, the tiger yawned, then lapped at the water.

“It just drank some water,” Darcy said, delighted by the idea that a tiger was just relaxing, casually, like this was its every day routine they’d peeked at. Which it sort of was, she realized.

“Is that noteworthy?” Brock whispered.

“Shut up,” Darcy sassed. They passed antelopes, giraffes, peacocks, and elephants, oohing and ahhing. The monorail was maybe the most thrilled she’d been in months.

“I see something in the water! What is it?” Bianca asked, as they went through another exhibit.

“A hippo?” Brock said doubtfully. The hippo was half-submerged in the water.

“Is it dead?” Gerald asked. Darcy had to press her lips tightly together not to laugh.

“No,” Brock said.

“It looks dead,” Bianca said.

“Keep your hands in,” Darcy told Gerald nervously. He was a little grabby and trying to look back at the hippo as the tram moved away quickly. “I’m sure it’s fine,” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” Brock said.

“Someone should really give it a proper funeral,” Bianca said.

“A proper funeral? Who taught you that?” Brock said.

“Nonna,” Bianca said. “That’s my Grandma,” she told Darcy.

“Oh,” Darcy said, as Brock suddenly looked nervous.

“Mrs. Tarborelli didn’t get a proper funeral!” Gerald yelled.

“Jerry,” Brock scolded. “Inside voice.”

“But we’re outside!” Bianca said. She turned to Darcy and whispered, “Mrs. Tarborelli was _cremated,_ but we’re not supposed to say.”

“Is cremated a bad word?” Gerald asked.

“Not exactly,” Darcy said. “It’s just a little messy?” She looked at Brock. He shrugged.

“Like butt!” Gerald said, making elaborate fart noises.

“Oh God,” Brock muttered.

“Jerry, that’s very undignified,” Bianca said. 

The sea lion feeding was adorable. Their enclosure had a little pool around a rocky platform, so the zoo employees tossed them fish and the sea lions hopped around, swam, did circles, and one even did a flip in the air in front of them.

 

***

The kids started to flag and argue after the sea lion feeding, seeing the gorillas, and riding the Bug Carousel, so they took them home. “What do you want to eat?” Brock asked them.

“Macaroni,” Bianca said. They’d bought her a plush elephant. She was hanging onto it for dear life. Her brother had looked at it for five seconds and Darcy had thought there might be a melee.

“Bugs,” Gerald said, reaching over to poke at the elephant. Bianca jerked it away.

“No! He’s mine. You’re being gross,” Bianca said.

“Bugs bugs bugs,” he repeated.

“Stop!” Bianca yelled.

“Everybody calm down. You cannot have gummy worms for dinner,” Brock said to Gerald, in what sounded like his hostage negotiator voice. “He loves those,” Brock told Darcy. She nodded.

“Okay, I want mashed potatoes,” Gerald said.

“I’ll see about that macaroni,” Darcy said, peering at the cabinets. Brock was sadly regarding a bag of potatoes. Darcy could tell he was trying to figure out meal logistics for ten minute Kraft mac and cheese versus hour long potatoes with a headache. “Oh, look,” she said, passing him a box.

“These aren’t real mashed potatoes,” he said staring at the instant potatoes box.

“Yes, they are, they came from the store,” Bianca said. “I’m going to see Mommy and put on my princess clothes while you make my macaroni.” Fallon and her husband Jim were going on a date, since Darcy had volunteered them to babysit.

“Bugs bugs bugs,” Gerald chanted. “I think I want Cheerios, too, Uncle Brock. But not touching. Different plates.”

 

They were in the midst of doling out food onto the only acceptable superhero and princess melamine plates when Fallon came downstairs to say goodbye. “Just set them up with a movie, they’ll crash after they eat,” Fallon told Brock. Jim nodded.

“Thanks, man. We appreciate you surprising us like this,” Jim said.

"Yes," Fallon said, "I don't even feel bad for hiding from Ma that you're home."

“You get any while we were gone?” Brock asked wryly.

“Shut up,” Fallon hissed. “They hear everything.” She turned to the kids. “We’ll be back soon.”

“You look beautiful, Mommy,” Bianca said.

“We saw a sea lion! It eats like Daddy,” Gerald said, stirring his instant potatoes.

“Those look lumpy,” Jim said.

“Shhh, he’s happy, let’s go,” Fallon said.

“Wait, I want a kiss!” Bianca said, pursing her lips expectantly for Fallon.

“I want gummy worms,” Gerald announced, as his mother kissed him.

 

After they’d eaten, Brock asked them what movie they wanted to watch. There was a brief debate over the merits of _The Lion King_ versus princesses and Darcy asked Brock where they kept the blankets. “Are you going to bed already?” he said, looking horrified, as if he was semi-afraid to be left alone with two small children.

“No,” she said. “Just keep them in the kitchen, this is a surprise,” Darcy said. “Ask them to help you wash their plates.”

“Okay,” Bianca said obediently. “You wash the plates, I’ll be the waitress,” she told her brother.

“What does the waitress do?” Brock said curiously.

“She stacks the plates and carries them to the sink for the dishwasher,” Bianca said. “Like this. Forks on top, Jerry.”

Darcy found blankets in an upstairs closet and used her phone for ideas---Frigga bless Wikihow---to make a rudimentary blanket fort out of chairs stolen from the kitchen. “No peeking,” she told the kids, as took she took chairs out. “It’s a surprise.”

“Okay,” Bianca said, covering her brother’s eyes.

“Hey!” Gerald said.

“He cheats,” Bianca said. Brock followed her out.

“You need a hand?” he said, looking puzzled.

“I got this,” she said, arranging the chairs around the blanket she’d already put on the floor in front of the TV. “Have they decided on a movie? You could get movie snacks all sorted out?” she suggested, as she draped a blanket over the chair backs.

“Yeah,” he said. He grinned at her. “Are you having fun with my tiny relatives?” he said. “This is not exactly Hawaii.”

“Oh, I’m having fun, but that doesn’t mean our prank war is over, mister. This is a temporary cease fire. We haven’t settled this yet.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said, smirking. “I’ll have to think about how to respond to that, sweetheart.” When they saw the blanket fort, the kids screamed. “Ow,” Brock said.

“It’s amazing,” Bianca said. “It’s mine.”

“No, it’s mine,” Gerald said.

“You should share,” Darcy said. They ended up compromising and watching _Moana._

“Jerry loves Moana,” Bianca said.

“She’s beautiful,” Jerry said seriously. Darcy made sure to get a photo of Brock watching TV with them inside the fort. His feet stuck out the other side, but Jerry looked happy snuggling him.

“What are you doing?” Brock said, looking up at her from the floor.

“Documenting tonight, just for blackmail purposes,” she told him. He scoffed.

“Like you could blackmail me over spending time with these adorable little monsters,” he said, squeezing and tickling Jerry until he shrieked. Bianca was preoccupied with sorting her snacks into the little sections on her plate. She had changed into her princess outfit, so she was being tidy and explaining protocols to her elephant.

 

Eventually, the kids fell asleep and Brock carried them upstairs. Darcy disassembled the blanket fort and folded up the blankets. She was cleaning up when Brock came downstairs and found her in the kitchen. “So,” he said, “we’re restarting the pranks back at work, huh?” They were leaving after Fallon and Jim got back and driving back to New Jersey.

“Yup,” Darcy said. Shiny Shirt Rumlow was too good an opportunity to give up without a fight.

“We’ve got a little while before they get home,” he said, coming up behind her. Looping his arms around her waist, he leaned against her. Brock smelled like bergamot and pepper, she realized. Clean, but masculine.

“How long?” she asked.

“Long enough to have some fun,” he said, grinning. “Put down that dish soap.”

“Sure, Commander,” she said jokingly. She put down the dish soap and turned. He was looking at her intently. His eyes were warm. There was a smidge of potato flakes on his nose. She reached up to wipe it off, grinning.

“What?” he said.

“Potato flakes,” she teased, “total mood killer.” He frowned. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Most of the time,” she added

“Yeah?” he said, swallowing.

“Mhmm-hmm,” Darcy said. “But not this time.”

“Good,” he said, pulling her closer. They were making out in the kitchen when Fallon and Jim returned a few minutes later.

“This would definitely get you fired if you were my regular babysitter,” Fallon announced. Jim laughed.

“Killjoy,” Brock muttered, detaching himself Darcy.

“You better find your car keys,” Darcy told him, straightening her shirt. “We have to go back to work.” He sighed and left the room.

“I want updates on whatever you do to him,” Fallon said.

“Come with me,” Darcy said, taking her aside to say she had the catalogue photos and what they were going to do with them. Fallon started to shriek with laughter.

“I remember those,” she said, leaning against the counter. “So awful. He loved that hair gel.”

“What are you laughing about?” Brock called.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute Bronx Zoo video. The monorail part starts at minute 5:00: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VG95aAvpRr8.
> 
> More monorail footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tw1MKYOONs


	6. Prank Offensive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos! Y'all are awesome.

“At what point does the cease fire end?” Brock asked. “Do I get a time or geographic coordinates or both?” he said, grinning. It was a warm night. He’d put the top down on the Jeep before they left, so Darcy could get a better view of their trip back over the George Washington Bridge to the base in Jersey. It had been a fun trip back. 

“Where would you like it to end?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said. 

“Okay,” Darcy said cheerfully. This accorded with her plans with Skye anyway.

“My room or yours tonight?” he said. Darcy burst out laughing. “What?” Rumlow said. 

“You just overstepped, STRIKE,” she told him. “I’m not having sex with you tonight. I’m going back to my own bed and sleeping the sleep of the childless and irresponsible.”

“I’m gonna remind you that you just had your tongue in my mouth,” he said, looking at her and grinning. “In my sister’s kitchen. We gonna treat that like nothing?” he asked.

“What happens in the boroughs stays in the boroughs, Commander,” Darcy said.

“Ouch, Lewis, that hurts my tender feelings. If you keep wounding me like this, I may be forced to escalate things. Your devious plans could backfire,” Rumlow said.

“Sure,” Darcy said. God, he was fun. What was even happening with her life?

“Every good war has night operations, ground incursions, all kinds of interesting things,” he added wryly. 

“Night operations?” Darcy said, laughing as the wind blew her hair around. 

“Deep cover night operations,” he said, flicking his tongue over his lips and grinning at her. Darcy thought about those photos of him in the shiny shirt that were going to be plastered all over the base in the morning and tried not to laugh hysterically. She failed. “What?” he said.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you, if this is some kind of behind enemy lines situation,” she told him, between giggles. “I’m pretty sure me getting affectionate would violate the Geneva Convention, there’s codes of conduct. You can’t consent if I’ve led you into a trap.”

“What if I wave a white flag and surrender?” he said.

“I didn’t think you did that,” she told him. He smirked. She texted Jane to say they were near.

“I’m full of surprises,” he said, as they reached the base. “You’ve got minutes to decide,” he said, giving an ID to the guard at the gate. “So?”

“Oh, look, there’s Jane,” Darcy said. Jane was standing with her hands on her hips. “She looks exactly the way my Grandma used to look whenever we were in trouble,” Darcy added.

“Oooooh, Lewis,” Rumlow said.

“Where have you been?” Jane asked, when they pulled up. 

“I told you, we were babysitting,” Darcy said.

“I thought you were kidding,” Jane said.

“Nope, she baby-sat my hellion-ish relatives,” Rumlow said.

“They were adorable,” Darcy told Jane. “One of them is a princess and the other one won’t tell you his name. I’m pretty sure he’s going to grow up to be Phil Coulson 2.0.”

“They’re four and six,” Rumlow said to Jane, getting their bags. “And my nephew is not going to grow up to be Phil Jr., all right?”

“Why not? Do you want him to jump out of planes like you instead?” Darcy said.

“No, Gerald is going to be something nice and peaceful like a veterinarian or university cop,” Rumlow said as they walked inside.

“You want your nephew to be the fun police at keggers or put down old Yeller? What is wrong with you?” Darcy said, horrified.

“I just don’t want him risking his neck like I do,” Rumlow said. 

“Gerald?” Jane said, trying to follow their conversation. “A small child named Gerald?”

“He goes by Jerry,” Rumlow said.

“You need to have some kids, so I can borrow them occasionally,” Darcy said. “I want to be a cool aunt and go to Disney and mini-golf and buy toys and see movies…”

“I can’t have a baby! I have work!” Jane said. 

“You do all those things already, don’t you?” Rumlow said at the same time, looking at Darcy.

“Yeah, but a kid gives you an ironclad excuse, so nobody looks at you like the single weirdo,” Darcy said. Brock nodded. She turned to the scientist. “Of course you can have a baby,” she told Jane. “You’ve got great DNA. Your baby would be a beautiful genius. Do you want the world to be full of kids fathered by that astrophysicist you hate?”

“Which one?” Jane said.

“Morris Furst-Whatsits or that Yates guy?” Darcy guessed, trying to remember the names of her most current nemeses.

“Ughhhhh, those guys,” Jane said. “I hate those guys.”

“A world full of their unattractive children raised to do science _ wrong,” _ Darcy said, winking at Rumlow. “How could you let that stand?”

“Yates has three kids,” Jane said grimly.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.

“Darce, who am I supposed to have a baby with? You know Thor and I are on-off and I don’t even know the gestation of a half-Asgardian baby,” Jane said, thinking out loud and sounding a little sad. “What if it’s like a giraffe and I’m pregnant forever?” Jane added. Darcy scrunched her nose and waited until Brock was mid-swig with his water bottle.

“Is Jack seeing anybody? Would he donate sperm?” she asked Rumlow. He spat out his water and stared.

“Are you serious?” he said.

“He does have a lot of good physical traits,” Jane mused. Then she snapped her jaw shut. “Please don’t tell Thor that I said that, please.”

“I sure as shit won’t,” Rumlow said.

“But, I mean, Jack is very charming and tall and handsome…” Jane said. “Is he straight?”

“Uh, bisexual?” Rumlow said. “He’s dated a few women, but his last serious relationship was with a guy on STRIKE Foxtrot.”

“Cool,” Darcy said. “And he’s very laid back. No offense, but your gene pool could use some Aussie and chill,” Darcy told Jane. “You’re not good at that at all.”

“Excuse me, you are in the middle of a prank war with Rumlow while you babysit for him, like that’s not weird and strange,” Jane said. 

“But you should see them, Janey, so cuuuuuute, I’ll show you photos. Please, have a baby! Please?” Darcy said. “Can we ask Jack for swimmers? Please?”

“What did you do to her?” Jane said to Rumlow. “I’m not having Jack’s baby,” she added. “I just don’t have time, even if they would be gorgeous and intelligent….”

“Look, though!” Darcy said, waving a photo of her holding Bianca on the zoo tram. “Think of the impact you could have another generation, raising a child as a single mom, taking him or her to political marches, getting a little  _ this is what a feminist looks like  _ onesie. C’mon, Jane, think of the children!”

“They’re my relatives, why don’t you ask for my sperm?” Rumlow said suddenly. “That’s my genetic material, right there. Well, plus Jim, but look at my bone structure and physique.” Jane looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “What?” he said.

“I’m thinking,” she said. “What was your SAT score?”

“She’s considering it!” Darcy said, bouncing up and down and clapping. “I’m going to be an aunt!” she said.

“My SATs were okay,” Rumlow said.

“Show me your abs,” Jane said. Rumlow obligingly pulled up his shirt. 

“Ooooh,” Darcy said. “Very impressive. Should I do game show hands? I feel like this calls for game show hands. Look at all the grooves. You have to put in effort for this. I think it’s an actual eight pack.” Rumlow nodded as Darcy petted his stomach. “Your baby would have genes for determination,” Darcy told Jane. 

“I’m in the gym twice a day,” he said, but Jane shook her head.

“Jack’s are better and I think you might be too average-height to ameliorate my shortness,” Jane said to him. “It has to be Jack.”  Her tone was business-like.

“Jack’s aren’t better!” Darcy said, as Jane abruptly turned and made for Jack’s on-base apartment. “I’ve totally seen Jack’s and they’re really, really nice, but I think you have a higher visible ab muscle count, technically-speaking,” she told Rumlow.

“Thanks, Lewis,” Rumlow said. “You can let go of my stomach now.”

“Do I have to?” Darcy said, still touching him.

“Nah,” he said. “Why don’t you want a baby of your own?”

“I want to be able to give it back to somebody when I need a nap,” Darcy said.

“Sound logic,” Rumlow said, sliding an arm over her shoulder. They followed Jane. “So, this isn’t part of the prank?” he asked.

“Nope,” Darcy said. “I really thought she’d laugh at me and go to bed. I forgot about her competitive side, too.”

“Tell me about that?” he asked.

“She can be single-minded to the point of insanity. This one time, she was possessed by interstellar jujubees and she yelled at me for calling the cops and drawing attention to her research site, even though she’d been missing for five hours.” Rumlow whistled.

“That bad, huh?” he said.

“Yup,” Darcy said.

“Here’s Jack’s unit,” Rumlow said. “Thirty-three,” he called out to Jane. 

“Thanks!” Jane said. She was squaring her shoulders and making her ‘big speech’ face, Darcy saw.

“You know, if this doesn’t work out, I’m happy to loan you my relatives,” Rumlow told Darcy. “You can hang out with them whenever.”

“Don’t say that, I’ll feel bad for what I’m about to do to you,” Darcy said, sighing.

“Oh, yeah? You can always make up for it by doing other things to me--” he was saying, when Jane knocked on Jack’s door. Jack opened it.

“Hey, darl,” he said.

“I’m here to ask you about your feelings on artificial insemination?” Jane said.

“Say what now?” Jack said.

“She wants to know if you have a personal relationship with your sperm, pal,” Rumlow called out. Darcy dissolved into giggles, hands still under his shirt.

“Darcy has pointed out that we might make a very attractive, intelligent child,” Jane said. “And my professional nemesis already has three children and he’s teaching them science  _ wrong,” _ Jane said, stressing the last word.

“Excuse me?” Jack said.

“Why don’t we let them work this out and we go back to your place?” Brock asked Darcy. She hmmm’d.

“God, I want to, I really do--I’d just feel bad if you hated me in the morning. I’ve got a really solid prank offensive planned,” Darcy said mournfully. 

“Eh,” he said, shrugging. “I think I’m more likely to forgive you if I’ve had sex recently and you’ve practically got your hand down my pants right now.”

“It’s those v-muscles, I love those,” Darcy said, sighing and realizing she’d been tracing them under his shirt. He laughed.

  
  



	7. Tamsin, Tammy, & Other Mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your kudos and comments! This has been such a fun story to write! Thanks @ibelieveinturtles for prompting it.

They were prying each other’s clothes off in her bed when Darcy stopped him. “What?” he said, leaning back against her headboard. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I feel super guilty right now, oh God,” she said. “I’m going to do a bad thing to you after I put my hands all over your gorgeous body,” Darcy said, sitting back. She stared at him, scrunching her nose in thought.

“What are you going to do? Super glue my guns?” he said. “Don’t do that, they’re expensive.” She shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Why do I feel so guilty? I don’t usually even do guilt. I called Ian’s mother by the wrong name for a year and I never felt guilty!”

“Why’d you call her by the wrong name?” he asked, unbuttoning her shirt.

“She implied I was chunky, so I called her Tammy,” Darcy said, leaning back into his arms when he reached out coaxingly to touch her. “Oh, that feels good. Her real name was Tamsin.”

 _“Tamsin?”_ he said.

“It’s like a preppy British name,” Darcy said.

“You did her a favor, Lewis. Tammy’s a much better name. Get back over here,” he said, grinning.

“They think Tammy’s a trashy name over there,” she explained, as she crawled back into his lap. He scoffed.

“You can call me by the wrong name whenever you want,” he said, stretching to unhook her bra. “Are you TP-ing my quinjet?”

“No, that’s not even exciting,” Darcy said.

“You look great naked,” he said, smirking. “So great.”

“Thanks, Brick,” she said, as he cupped her boobs and slid down the straps. “Uhhhhhhhhh, what am I doing with my life?” she asked in frustration.

“Having fun,” he said. “Real fun, not just your prank war.”

“Oh, Rick, you’re going to hate me tomorrow and I’m going to be so sad,” she said.

“I think I won’t,” he said, tilting his head as he fiddled with the button on her jeans. “What kind of panties do you have on?”

“Stop being nice, be mean again,” Darcy said, burying her face against his chest.

“Have you possibly caught feelings, you crazy hellion?” he teased, starting to laugh.

“Don’t you dare,” she said. “Don’t tell me I have feelings!”

“What if I just make you have sexual feelings tonight and regular feelings later?” he wheedled.

“Okay,” she said. “Just sex feelings.”

“Regular feelings later,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. They were great sex feelings, she realized later, as he positioned himself behind her. He was all muscle and sex, Darcy thought, unable to stop watching his reflection in her bedroom mirror as he put on a condom.

“You okay, baby?” Brock asked.

“Definitely,” Darcy said. She sat up to kiss him and felt his smirk against her mouth.

“Get back where I put you, we’re doing cute, kissy feelings later,” he whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Darcy said. He cupped the side of her face and grinned.

“You know all that hell you put me through? I want repayment in sex,” he told her teasingly. “And your diplomatic immunity isn’t going to protect you anymore.”

Darcy tried not to grin back too widely. But he wasn’t kidding about giving her sexual feelings. She was pretty certain that nobody had ever given her sexual feelings quite like he did. Several times. “Oh God,” she said, feeling her limbs shaking as they both slumped down on the bed.

“You okay?” he said.

“Yeah,” she told him, feeling dazed. Darcy was definitely ruined for other men now. She’d also just realized she was also having her real feelings ahead of schedule.

“Yeah?” he teased. “C’mere, angel.”

 

***

Darcy woke up by herself. “Ohhhh no,” she said out loud, when she realized he’d left. “Brock?” There was no answer. It was perfectly silent in her apartment. Darcy’s sheets still smelled like his cologne. She knew he must’ve seen the prank and bailed. “He had regular feelings without me and they’re mad feelings,” she said glumly. “I am a moron.” 

As she walked through the facility, she saw his face everywhere. She and Skye had arranged it so he was on every screen, plus Darcy had bribed someone to hang old school-inspired posters. Shiny Shirt Rumlow was doing Blue Steel at her from almost every surface. Skye had even dug up a few new ones, so they had Blue Steel Rumlow, Leather Jacket Rumlow, and even something Skye had nicknamed Tissue Overalls Rumlow, aka a photo of a shirtless Brock in white overalls. Darcy thought they were probably linen overalls. People were laughing at the photos, she realized cringingly. She passed Cameron Klein’s office and he gave her a double-thumbs up.

When she shuffled unhappily into the lab, Jane looked up. “Everyone’s talking about your prank!” she said. “I’ve got a dozen emails. Even one from Phil Coulson.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, sitting down.

“I thought you’d be happy?” Jane said.

“We slept together last night and when I woke up today, he was gone. Obviously, he’s mad about this. I should have called it off,” Darcy said.

“I’m sorry. Maybe he’s not that mad? He didn’t seem that mad when you left last night. Jack says he’s not that bothered by your pranks,” Jane said hopefully.

“Are you having Jack’s baby?” Darcy asked, eager to change the subject.

“Possibly,” Jane said, narrowing her eyes.

“Really?” Darcy said.

“He’s counter-offered that he wants us to be in a relationship if we’re having a child,” Jane said.

“How does Thor feel about that?” Darcy asked.

“I might know, if he ever called, wrote, or visited,” Jane said. She sighed. “I haven’t heard from Thor in literally months. Do I date Jack? He does have a lot of good points….and he’s actually here.”

“Hot, available guy or hot, unavailable guy?” Darcy said. “A true dilemma.”

“I would say that’s a mean joke, Prank Girl, but it’s actually true,” Jane said. “And Jack is a great kisser.”

“Did you kiss Jack?” Darcy said. “Jane!”

“I slipped,” Jane said.

“Onto his mouth? It was his mouth, right?” Darcy said. “Not anywhere else?”

“Darce,” Jane grumbled.

“If you decide you’ll have a baby, I’ll have it with you,” Darcy said.

“You do know how babies work, right?” Jane said.

“Yes. You and Jack provide the materials, I’ll be the gestational carrier. And people will let me sit down on the subway and throw parties and the baby and I will bond,” Darcy said. “Then when it pops out, I give it to you, but it still loves me and knows me from my uterus.”

“It’s not a bad plan,” Jane said.

“I need a project,” Darcy said. “I’m too good at this job.”

“But how high is your cholesterol again?” Jane said.

“I blame Big Pharma, pressuring doctors to lower the recommendations to sell more drugs. 240 is fine,” Darcy insisted.

“It’s all that half and half in your coffee,” Jane said.

“Oooh, I need a cup,” Darcy said.

 

She was making herself a cup of sadness-alleviating coffee when she realized Brock was nearby. Darcy froze.“Ma,” Darcy heard him saying, “I just needed my things, you’ve made me late, I don’t want her being upset—“

“Oh, your sister can meet her, but I can’t? I see how it is! This was a very thorough prank. There’s photos everywhere. She really went all out for you, look at how handsome you were.”

“Gee, thanks, Ma,” he said. Darcy peeked around the corner. He was busy grinning at his own face on a screen normally reserved for listing departmental offices.

“I forgot that one!” the dark-haired woman next to him said. “When were those overalls ever in style?”

“Never,” Brock said, laughing. He wasn’t upset? That was when Darcy realized _he was wearing the shiny shirt._

“Oh my God,” she said out loud. He looked up.

“Honey,” he said, grinning. “I’m sorry I was late--I went back home for the shirt and Ma wanted to come along. This is my mother, Angela. Ma, this is Darcy.”

"I know that, I've been hearing it from the grandchildren, they love you," Angela said.

“Really? Hi,” Darcy said nervously, only to be immediately hugged. “You’re not mad I did this to him?” she said to his mother’s hair. She was being tightly squeezed.  

“Oh, no,” she said, laughing. “I want copies of these, he burned all mine years ago. Fallon and I have been  _dying."_

“But you still have the shirt?” Darcy said, looking up at Brock over her shoulder.

“It was my payment for the job,” he said.

 

As his mother went off to “find nice Jack,” Darcy looked at Brock. “You’re not mad?” she said.

“Nope,” he said. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I’m going to get you back, though. I’m not surrendering. This is war.” Her jaw dropped. He winked and followed his mother.

“How’d your James Carville get so good?” Darcy said, shutting her mouth and hurrying after them.

 

***

“I cannot keep doing this,” Maria Hill said to them. “You are adults. I have warned you multiple times and these incidents are causing delays.”

“I know I’m an adult,” Brock said teasingly, cutting his eyes at Darcy. He looked down at her socks. They had labradors wearing science goggles on them. The background had science symbols, too.

“I’m an adult!” Darcy said, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

“Those are adult socks?” he said.

“It’s a pun, he’s a Science Lab,” Darcy said. “Jack gave them to me and Jane.” Jack was wooing Jane and also befriending Darcy. It was very cute. Darcy thought Thor might show up eventually, but Brock was betting on him being surprised by a half-Aussie baby.

“Enough,” Maria said. “You”--she pointed at Rumlow--”stop doing night raids on Jane’s and Darcy’s stuff with the rest of the STRIKE team and switching her entire lab with Nelson’s lab.”

“I thought they might like to be on the other side of the building? It gets better light,” he said, mock-innocently.

“I will fire you,” Hill said.

“Please don’t,” Darcy said. “I would feel guilty.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of guilt,” Maria said dryly. “Just stop it, you two.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll stop. When she stops replacing my favorite sandwiches with ones with pickles--”

“That wasn’t me, that was Martinez,” Darcy said. “I would never prank with pickles. They’re gross.”

“Sure,” Brock said.

“All slimey,” Darcy said, shuddering. “I don’t even like to touch the jar. I was the one who TP’d the quinjet, though,” she admitted.

“I knew it!” Brock said. “You thought you’d sneak that one by me and Jack would get blamed because it was Kangaroo themed paper, but I knew it!”

“Jane and I special ordered that online,” Darcy said.

“Oh, yeah?” he said.

“Out,” Maria said, taking on a decidedly Fury-like stare. “Before I shoot you both.”

 

“Moving the lab was a good trick, I like that side of the building,” Darcy whispered as they left Hill’s office.

“You wanna see the one where I make your bed look like my room?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. She squealed when he scooped her up. “What are you doing?” Darcy said.

“Kidnapping,” he said. “That’s my trick. Sleight of hand.” He cupped her ass and she laughed.

“Can we make Jane go three am bowling?” she asked.

"Should I see if Jack knows my trick?"

"Yup."

-The End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Science Lab socks: https://sockdrawer.com/collections/best-sellers-fun-socks/products/mens-socksmith-science-lab-crew-socks
> 
> I haaaaaate that every story has to end, so for your enjoyment, a collection of 90s-era Frank Grillo photos from when he was on Guiding Light. They look like catalog photos and I love them so much!!!! The brunette woman is his IRL wife, Wendy Moniz-Grillo; they were costars and her character killed off his character, snort. He talked about it in this clip: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1498849360174705
> 
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